Dark Versions: Cat In The Hat
by TransTropical
Summary: A small, hellish town... Suitable for anything to happen. Two teenagers, who are hellish themselves, meet a familiar, cat-like man, who likes to play games with his little friends...
1. Prologue

Author's Note: The original idea for Cat In The Hat is all Dr. Suess's or. whatever. Yeah. Names and idea for this particular version are all mine though! I even draw-ed pretty pictures to prove it, so ha! =^.^=  
  
Prologue  
It was another hot, sticky summer morning. The current summer heat was horrible. The brilliant yellow orb in the air gave off a hellish radiance to the people that lay in the town below it. The town itself was hellish enough; it didn't need such horrible heat to add on. It only made it more like hell itself; full of scorching heat and horrible devils. Not many in the town could really argue with that. It was full of devils. Not many seemed to look like them, but they were. Horrible creatures that seemed to suck the life out of everything that came near it. Unfortunately, that only drew more sadistic and ferocious ones to them. Ones that would do practically anything to hear screams of torment, screams of pain, anything to feed onto their dark, blackened souls. There was one creature, who loved to do that. Loved to search for darkened children who themselves seemed to embrace such evils, but weren't really ready for it. It loved to entangle them in a maze, where the only way they could escape was going further into the maze until they reached the center. But then again, if they never reached the center, they died. From either madness. Or his little friends. It was odd, but stories of him came up more frequently during the summer. Most people in the town thought it was because of the mounting boredom of a child's and the desire to cause a little chaos to make things more interesting. The stories were all the same however. It always began with a child or children being visited by a tall cat like man with a large, black and grey striped hat. He would walk into the house and ask if they wanted some excitement. Whatever the answer, he would take off his hat. Something would happen, and then the children would never be seen or heard of again. Not many people cared though. Parents were thrilled to find their demon children gone, and the neighborhood would always pray that the creature had enough or was gone with the children. It always came back though. It always wanted to have some. Fun.  
Dark Versions: Cat In The Hat 


	2. Chapter 1: Look What Dragged In The Cat

Chapter 1: Look What Dragged the Cat In Author's note: This does contain some offensive stuff that I'm kinda new to writing. It's not your usual shit, so I just have to warn you religious people that really care about what's in the Bible. This is actually a bit sick. If you count everything. So I warn you now, and now you know. Don't flame me with "That's soooo sick!", because I have told you that you have to brace yourself a bit if you want to read this. Thank-you. Yeah, I be a freak, so what. Also, I'm kinda new to the whole gothic/dark/hoobadee- whabadee writing, so here goes. Have fun.  
  
A girl sat on a homemade wooden swing. The swing was made of a thick wooden plank; neatly stained to a redwood colour. Thick ropes attached the wooden plank to a large redwood tree. The redwood stood magnificently in front of a Victorian style house from the eighteen thirties. Tall white columns stood holding a low balcony with hand-carved, ebony rails. Several windows with black shutters were scattered across the whole face of the house. A large, crimson door with a shimmering gold handle stood between the tall white columns. A porch of limestone was where the door and columns stood. The porch had two ebony chairs that matched the railing of the balcony above. Three limestone stairs connected the gravel walkway to the porch. The gat sat, looking in the opposite direction of her home. The girl wore a long dress as she sat and slowly swung. The girl's old style Victorian, white frill dress swayed as she gracefully rocked back and forth on the wooden swing. Her sleek brown hair though held back with a medium sized pink bow, slowly moved with the rest of her thin, teenage body as it rocked. Her feet, which were in shining black dress shoes, danced slowly across the earth as if she steadied the swing incase she was in need to move quickly. Her neck had a thin white choker wrapped around it; barely visible because of her head. Her head was somewhat tilted, but stayed in its spot as the rest of her body rocked in the movement of the swing. She was smiling softly; her lips painted a faint shade of pink, at two boys. Her icy blue eyes looked upon them with glee; a playful desire that urged her to keep her eyes focused. Small, soft giggles emitted from her mouth every now and then as she kept her eyes on the boys with interest. It had always interested her to see this. See violence that is. She never had any pity for whoever it was being caused harm. Throughout her life, when hearing of war, death, and other casualties, she remained eerily calm and kept her playful smile on. Her eyes always filled with a glee that held desire, interest, and an odd lust. A lust that always arose with the sight of crimson blood or gleaming daggers. It was indeed an odd lust that she held. Pitiless and full of desires, she watched the two boys. One in pain, bleeding and suffering, while the other still full of the burning hate that drove him. She smiled at the thought that he, her brother, was full of such burning hate. His fist connected with the other boy's. His fist was a dull red from the continuous hitting. The spiked wristband he wore had specks of blooding trickling down each spike that had connected with the bronze skinned face of the other boy. His own skin a pale peach colour. Sweat fell from his head under his spiked, green hair. His hair still showing the blonde roots from before he dyed it. His eyes narrowed. He watched as the boy staggered upward. His own gray eyes bearing into the other's deep ocean green eyes. The other boy, bleeding and bruised terribly, staggered clumsily to his feet. His face, once clean and actually very pretty, was now covered in purple bruises and cuts oozing blood. He gasped for air, his chest heaving.  
  
The girl's brother smirked; a small cut on his upper lip, which had now turned a slight shade of purple from the usually light pink, was the only place where the other boys hit had made contact. The rest of him was unharmed. There were only specks of blood stained on his clean, white tank top. His sleek, black leather pants gave off a shine in the scorching sunlight. His black leather jacket lay carelessly on the asphalt, having been thrown off at the beginning of the fight. He smiled wryly. "Have you learned your lesson? Now do you know better than to approach my sister, Sarah? And you better not say anything stupid punk otherwise you're going to be one sorry dead bastard." His voice was low and menacing. Almost like the snarl of an angry dog ready to lunge at its enemy's throat. The other boy coughed. He nodded his head slightly. The boy frowned. "That wasn't a reassuring gesture." He balled his fist and put it in his other hand; both of which were slowly turning a light pink and peach colour. "Yes. I'm sorry. Never again." The other boy stuttered it out, unable to communicate it in a full sentence. He glanced at the girl-Sarah-then back at the boy. He then realized it was a mistake. Sarah watched gleefully as her brother's fist connected with the boy, whom she knew as Steavan. She let out a small moan as Steavan's black curls flew back with his head as her brother's fist slammed into his nose. Small shines of crimson could be seen from him as he fell backwards and hit the ground hard. She heard the dull thud of his head as it hit the asphalt. Quietly, she cooed as her brother followed his body almost instantly, covering it and, fist after fist, attacked the boys used to be perfect face. At first, Steavan put up a faint struggle. His hands weakly clawed at the back of the other boy's sides to try and pull him off, but only encouraged stronger blows to be thrown. Soon, he stopped moving altogether, almost limp looking. Sarah loved violence, and magically encouraged her brother to move into it whenever it could be done, but having him murder someone just couldn't be tolerated. She couldn't bear to be the cause of her beloved brother going to prison. "Jake." She barely whispered. Her voice was silky and soft, that of a small child. She rose slowly and elegantly from her wooden swing and began to lightly take steps toward the two. Jake held his fists where they were and was perfectly still. Steavan, barely able to lift his eyes, saw that Jake had closed his eyes and was taking in large amount of air. Sarah gracefully walked past the yards cleanly cut grass and onto the asphalt. She gently put her hand on one of Jake's fist. The fist had red smears on it from constant contact with Steavan's bloody face. Carefully, she tugged at his arm to make him rise. Jake opened his eyes slowly and stood up. He looked down at his sister. He was much taller than her, due to age difference. He was nineteen and she was sixteen. Her icy blue eyes looked at his gray eyes for a second, and then went to his bloody hand. Steavan watched in horror as she pulled her brother's hand to her mouth. Slowly, her soft, pink tongue came out and licked the blood carefully off his hand. Jake seemed to expect this, and held it opened so she could get every spot. Jake looked down at Steavan, sending horrible glares that told him not to move. Sarah lifted her head and licked her lips. She turned to Steavan. "Do please leave now. It would be a shame for anymore of your wonderful blood to stain the asphalt. And also, if you would be so kind, do not tell anyone of this occasion. If anyone asks, you were clumsy. And fell down." Sarah's sweet, silky voice suddenly changed. The softness was gone. The gentle, innocence completely wiped from it. Instead, a severity came over her. Her eyes boar into his. As if she went straight to his soul. Steavan shuddered slightly, his body aching with every movement he made. "For if anyone happens to find out about this, I will not stop Jake next time." She clung to her brother in a disturbing way. Steavan thought about the Bible in his head as he saw the two-brother and sister-clinging to each other as if they were lovers. Sarah's arms wrapped around Jake's waist tightly, her head softly dug into his side. One of Jake's hands wrapped around her shoulders, grasping it tightly, while the other rested on her head, each finger entangled in stands of her silky brown hair. "And next time, you will be dead." The sudden severity of her voice left instantly and her sweet smile and gentleness returned. All innocence that looked lost had returned to her face, making the embrace she had with her brother have an ever more disturbed feeling. "Have a good day, Steavan Jefferies." They both-Sarah and Jake-stared at Steavan with cold eyes as he slowly got to his feet. Every part of him ached, but he eventually stood up. He took one last look at the two, and left.  
  
Sarah let her arms drop from her brother's waist. Slowly, she walked back to the swing. Jake walked to where he had thrown his leather jacket on and picked it up. He stared at it for a second, and then slid his arms in. He turned to where Sarah was. She was still slowly walking to the swing. He knew why she was moving so slowly. The lustful moans she had let out. He knew her every move. It was odd for him to know everything, but he did. It was how he liked it though. Ever since he could remember, he had wanted to be bad. He wanted to be like the devils in his mother's thick, leather Bible. The devils and sins that were in there, he wanted to be. Rebellion for the sake of it was what he wanted. He saw Sarah turn and sit upon the swing, graceful and elegant as ever. Her eyes were closed and she went upon instinct to find her place. She knew it well. He smiled at her, how she slowly began to swing again, a smile creeping over her face, her eyes opening slightly. He began to walk to where she was. He felt the difference of the clean cut grass under his feet instead of the asphalt. He walked past the side of wooden swing, and stopped behind her. When she swung back to him, he caught her swing, as softly as he could so she wouldn't shake. Sarah closed her eyes and chuckled. "What are you doing, Jake? You know that while outside in the open, you can't do anything to me. You'll embarrass mother and father. Besides, we're family. We're blood." Jake purred. He loved it when she acted innocent. It gave her a feeling of being untouched and pure. It gave him the feeling that he could take that all away, as any and every bad boy he knew loves to do. He let one of his hands slip down over hers. He carefully bent his head down to hers. "What are you talking about dear sister? I would never do anything to you, like you said, we're blood. You hurt me." He talked slyly. Every inch of his voice was like a somber whisper. He knew what he was doing; it was like so many times before. He knew her reaction even before it happened. Sarah turned her head to him slowly; throwing back some of her hair whilst other strands covered another part of her face. She breathed in heavily. "I'm sorry. I was quick to judge your actions." Jake watched as her eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips. He showed no signs of acknowledgment to her doing this, but knew she was well aware he watched her. They both knew each other very well. Both knew and had a desire to be bad, to be dark, to be the true evil. Each had their own approach, but thought they had evil down. Instead of minor things, they went straight to the sins. So many down. Oh so many. Jake leaned his head in so he could feel his sister's breath. He felt the rabid intake and out. He squeezed her hand in his; feeling parts of the rope scratch his own skin. He tightened his grip. Sarah shivered as she felt the rope cut into her skin. She felt the blood begin to trickle out. She could take it no more. She lunged at his face with hers, ignoring all the polite gestures and words. She felt the heat he had and his tongue swirling in her mouth; her own tongue deep within his. Jake's other hand traced down Sarah's face, past her breasts, and to her stomach. He squeezed it tightly, causing Sarah's head to fall and her to take a deep breath. Her other hand went to his and covered it. She looked back at him, her eyes filled with desire and a sense of wickedness. Jake returned the look, feeling dominant; as he did with all the girls he had. But he also felt a passion like no other. It was his sister after all, and he was her brother.  
  
Sarah moved her head back up, thrusting her tongue deep into Jake's mouth without hesitation. She knew what she was doing. All her life she waited for moments like these. Moments where the sweet, gentle face she could have would hide away, allowing what she wanted out. Her hand on her brother's gently held it and pulled it upwards. She felt a wave of heat go down her body when she brought it up to her breast. She could feel his heat more and more. She loved this. Loved having such contact with him. She knew it could only get better. She remembered suddenly the tongue in his mouth when he stuck his tongue deep into her mouth, pressing his face extremely hard against hers. She had gotten lost in her thought. Jake knew she would. She always did. Then, she would forget the hand that he had on her breast. He would make her remember. The would both walk up to the crimson door and walk inside. That's always how it happened. He was right. The hand she had on his weakened. He gave a squeeze to her tender, soft breast and she pulled her head back. She looked at him, her icy eyes bearing into his own cold, gray eyes. They looked at each other coldly, no trace of love or passion left. Sarah slowly stood up, taking her hand off of Jake's. She walked to his side, pulling her other hand out from under his. She walked upon the gravel; felt it crush and give way beneath her feet. Jake turned and followed. They walked up the limestone steps onto the porch. Sarah slid her hand between the golden handle and opened the door. Jake had closed his eyes, expecting his sister to walk right through the door. He was surprised when he walked straight into her. "Sarah, why have you stopped?" He began to slowly open his eyes, agitated that she would stop when they had just gotten started. He looked past her and was terrified to see a cat-like man standing in his house. He felt his mouth hang open slightly, as he searched the figure with his eyes. Sarah's eyes went wide for a second as she saw the man. He wore a burgundy suit and black tie. A white undershirt was barely visible under the tie and suit. A thin black choker was round his neck and a tiny, silver bell was attached to it. He had light, sandy brown hair that went a bit past the end of the choker. Two larger ears stuck out from bits of hair. They were not rounded at all and, instead, were pointed. On his left ear were three rings at the top, and one large one at the bottom. His left ear was slightly cut off; by the looks of it, by teeth. He wore black spectacles with purple tinted lenses, that seemed to be clip-ons. He smiled softly, two white fangs extended out from his lips. His eyes were closed and had strands of hair covering them slightly. On top of his head, was a tall, black and gray striped hat. Suddenly, after a few moments of silence, his eyes flashed opened, making both Sarah and Jake flinch slightly. He grinned; his yellow- orange eyes mocking them. "Why hello dear children. I'm very glad you have finally decided to come in for you see, I've been waiting for you." He stood up and took a step closer to them, then, as if he had done it intentionally, stopped and put one hand over his face and chuckled. "My, my. Almost stated business without a proper introduction!" He took his hand down and grinned maliciously. "I am Chester C., otherwise known as, the cat in the hat." 


	3. Chapter 2: May the Game Begin

Chapter 2: May the Game Begin  
  
Jake and Sarah stared at the man. He had said his name was Chester C., the cat in the hat. Both knew what was said of such a creature, the cat in the hat. It had been told to them by fretful parents, angry adults, and kids they know. All seemed to be a bit different, due to current going-ons. But each had the same distinct message; the cat in the hat coming to your door was a horrid thing to have happen. You would disappear. That was really all that was known. No one ever really knows what happens, no one has ever been seen from again.  
This crossed both their minds-Sarah's and Jake's-at the same time, but with different effects.  
Jake thought of this as a joke. A joke that some obviously stupid adult had decided to play. He never really believed the stories of such a being. One that feeds off evil and sin; attacks and manipulates. No, it was not a real thing. Parents and childless adults would make up such a thing to make kids obey them. To make them perfect Christians, Buddhists, whatever. Just so they wouldn't commit bad. It worked on most kids. Would believe it and shit their pants if they ever saw a grey and black striped hat. It was stupid. All those kids that "disappear" were probably sent to some correctional camp or something. There was no threat in a mad man who calls himself the cat in the hat.  
Jake didn't believe it at all. His sister however, believed it; just a bit, just a bit so that the more her mind lingered on the subject, the more it became obvious of what would happen.  
Sarah thought instantly of Kyla Simmons. A friend she used to know in the seventh grade. She was one of those beautiful girls, the ones who, despite all said; you knew would become some exotic dancer or a plain out hooker. Soft, bronzed skin that was told to be natural by her, but known to be tanning bed made, dark, brown eyes that looked like black holes that could sweep any unsuspecting man or woman in, long, wavy brown hair with blonde streaks in it, and a slender body with breasts to draw attention from her face to them in the instant she would unzip her coat. Always under that coat, was an outfit that proved ones dancer theory. It was always some skimpy, barely covering shirt and shorts that would cover her ass but show her g-string. The total opposite of Sarah really. It had been an odd sight to see when you would look. Two girls, one with bronzed skin, dark eyes and hair, and clothes that revealed most of her body, standing next to a pale girl with light eyes and hair dressed in old styled Victorian dresses. The two who would walk the hallways with undying confidence in their eyes. Sometimes they would carry books in one hand, and hold each others in their free hands. It was quite an odd sight to behold. But Kyla was gone. She had "disappeared" that summer. It had been on a terribly warm day, a little less hot than today had been. She remembers leaving Kyla's house for the very last time. She had noticed a man in a suit had gone past her. A man with an extremely tall hat. At the time, she had thought it was one of Kyla's usual gentlemen that visited her house. It wasn't very well known, but Kyla usually did have sex with older men. Sometimes for money, sometimes for kicks. So, it hadn't struck Sarah that something was wrong. She just walked by smiling. It was two days later that it had been noticed that Kyla was gone. A quick investigation had gone by. Police question the family and herself. After hearing the description of the man, it was ended quickly. The cat in the hat had struck again, taking Kyla to her death. It was a little hard on Sarah, but she had gotten over it. Until she saw that man again. Chester C. looked up at Sarah grinning. He stood up as straight as he could, giving her a malicious smile. Instinctively, Jake put his arm out, coving his sister's eyes. "I wouldn't stare at her if I were you cat man. I don't like it when..." "When there seems to be better competition for your dear lover? You know, it isn't wise to make a lover out of your sister, people will talk." He smiled, then turned back to Sarah, whose face had become visible. Jake had lowered his arm, staring wide eyed at the man in the suit and large hat. "Dear Sarah, this is the... Second time we have met I believe. The first time however, you seemed pure. A brilliant light caught up in the oddest of darkness." He grinned maliciously. Sarah felt her body go cold. The grin sent shivers down her spine. The eyes, those horrid, piercing, yellow-orange eyes, narrowed at a light slant, dove deep into her own icy blue eyes, which were wide with a sense of thrill and terror. The thrill had shocked her, since it seemed to come out of no where, but was surprisingly strong. The horror quickly numbed, subdued by the odd thrill that rose from her chest and began to warm her body. This caused a shock to her. She felt odd feelings shoot through her body; fear, shock, horror, thrill, and then numbness. She gulped it all down, trying to keep her calm, serene state. Knowing this cold strong nature could keep her alive. She felt an easiness sweep through her at the thought that she could maintain herself. She looked about her house for strength to this. It was a very old styled room; eighteenth century beauty stilled for hundreds of years. The painted walls were a light crème colour in the background with thin lines of a brilliant, gold dancing vertically on the paint in the light of a diamond chandelier that made, not just the walls, but the entire room glitter with radiance. Beautiful and seductive burgundy carpet, slightly textured at the tips where feet would be cushioned once laid upon. Since it was merely the entry way; which branched out into many rooms including the living room, kitchen, dining room, study, and the large, marble staircase with gold etched into the railing, which led up into the bathrooms and bedrooms; it was the less furnished room in the entire house, which would tell whomever entered it, that the house and family had come together with several belongings each. The entry was furnished with large antique, cherry wood chairs with burgundy velvet cushions, two to be exact, surrounding a medium sized, cherry table. The table was smooth surfaced and rounded. On top of it, sat a golden candle holder; slightly tarnished in some spots with slightly orange-bronze rust; with a partially melted, crème coloured candle. There was no flame lit at the moment. Briefly she shut her eyes and inhaled a soft amount of air. She felt calm again; a large amount of confidence and coolness swelled inside of her. She felt renewed strength. At the same moment, she felt her brother's grip on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and saw that he had taken a step backwards, eyeing the cat, the man, Chester C., in a cold stare. Her eyes softened for a moment, staring at him, admiring his ability to keep his deep eyes so obviously calm, when she could tell by the increasing tightness of his grip that he was not as calm as his eyes showed. She thought of that man, Chester C., who made her brother act in such a manner. She set her eyes at a cold stare and gracefully turned her head back to him; making her blonde hair fly beautifully in the air, sparkling from the light the chandelier gave off. Chester C. raised his eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying every second that passed between himself and the two. He began to grin as he saw the intense coldness set off from Sarah. Rather than become nervous or even offended as Sarah had hoped, he became intrigued and wished to know more of her new thoughts, however, he only gave a grin, one that told of no emotion whatsoever. "Dear Chester... Yes, it does happen to be the second time we have met. You say then I gleamed with a light, as if caught only in darkness, shining and forever shining; but now, I am that very darkness that had once surrounded me." She let her eye lashes fall slightly, covering her eyes partially. "But you see, my dear cat..., I have always been as I am..." She opened her mouth to continue, but felt her brother wrap his arms around her, and lay his head on her soft blonde hair and pink bow. Jake sighed momentarily. His gaze moving from the top of his sister's head, her beautiful, blonde head with the innocent and elegant pink bow, back to Chester C. "Sarah has always been a beautiful darkness. A temptress in her own way; her way of showing innocence with every light step she takes, then the full blow of her true self under the silky, velvety garments, laced with frills and strung with bows of soft, light colours." He closed his eyes and grinned into his sister's hair and wrapping his arms tightly around her so that she let out a small, but body shaking moan. He continued. "You say she had light, full of innocence. That's what must have made you say it, demon cat of adult prayer. Her innocence." Chester C. spoke before allowing Jake continue. As Jake had talked, he had begun to question the boy's sense of judgment. He didn't question Sarah's, he happened to like the thrill she gave him. It was almost alluring, a temptation to take her in his arms, whether she kick and scream or not made no real difference, but to have her for himself. Her brother, Jake, was a different story. As Jake had interrupted her, he then began to frown. When he had managed to make her moan, it almost angered him. It was almost an attempt to show how much he could withstand from he, Chester C. the tormenting darkness, and show dominance. How irritable. "Her innocence you say? Yes, her innocence gave her a gleaming light, so very untainted by many things. Untainted by death, sickness, violence, and drugs. Virgin in all areas besides friendly kisses and hugs of family affection. She was indeed innocent." Jake grinned, and began to open his mouth, but was again cutoff. "However... She was also in the area of a, Kyla Simmons. A girl so deep in her own particular darkness that even a virgin sow covered in mud would emit a brilliant and radiant light." Chester grinned at once when seeing the reaction of Jake. His face went from a slight irritation to anger. He was even more delighted to see Sarah's reaction. She was able to maintain the same cold look she had earlier; totally unaffected by the fact that she had just been compared to a sow, covered in mud. Jake glared hard at the man. Many thoughts were going through his mind. A sow of all things to call such a beauty as the girl he held... It was monstrously wrong and calling for a strong, beating. He began to lift his arms from around his sister, slipping them from around her waist when she suddenly walked out of them herself. Softly and gracefully, she took each step past her spot and walking more into the entry way of her home. Her hair and dress swayed silently and lightly with each step she took. Chester C. looked at her, a bit of surprise in his eyes as well as a grin that told of his increasing interest. He thought of her, how she filled the room with a definite shadow. She emitted darkness with every little breath she took. He watched her mouth with interest, tiny bits of air going in and out. His eyes, Chester's, were not normal. He saw things in colour; saw an item's beautiful shape, texture, and radiance. But, he also saw things, mainly living things and atmospheres, with a sense of light and dark. The room he was in, beautiful in every aspect of colour, texture, and radiance, was light in ever corner by itself. Not a hint of darkness, besides occasional shadows made by the diamond chandelier. Sarah on the other hand, she poured darkness from every breath, every sweat, every beat of her heart. Her appearance, in his eyes, was not a lovely, fair girl. No. In his eyes, he saw a girl with white, alabaster- like skin, almost white, blonde hair staring at him with almost white, ice blue eyes. Her dress, which was a Victorian white, frill dress, to him, was a gothic black dress. Where laces were, were areas connected only by a material almost like panty hose, but much thinner. The ends of the dress and of the shoulders were jagged looking pieces of fabric that flowed. Her black, shinning, dress shoes were bondage boots that disappeared under her long dress. The bow in her hair, was torn in places, and jaggedly finished. A picture perfect dark child. Jake was almost the complete opposite. In the world without judgment of light and dark, his appearance consisted of sleek, black leather and many spiked wristbands, chokers, and even his green hair. In Chester's eyes, he was a boy with medium length blonde hair, prep surfer cut, with an almost almond coloured skin. Instead of the sleek leather wrapped around his waist, there were equal in length, yet baggy, khaki colour cargo jeans. Red chucks barely visible from the pants, were on his feet. Instead of a white tank top and a leather jacket, there was a black t-shirt with a green skull dying, with bits of skin melting off of it. Around his neck was a loose silver chain. Around his left wrist was a black wristband with a skull on it. On his other wrist was an assortment of black, red, white, and green bands. Jake was but a small purveyor of darkness. Probably gaining most of it from the girl, still inching toward him. It was time. Chester C. held out his hand to motion for Sarah to stop. She held her foot in the air, staring at him, blinking once, then set it back upon the floor. Chester grinned. He took two steps backwards and then put his fingertips on the brim of his hat. Almost as if lust compelled him, he traced it with his fingers, ever so lightly. He began to speak softly and sensuously. "Dear, dear children... You've piqued the lust in me. With your overwhelming darkness and attitude. You have sent shivers of cold and heat through my body. Every bit of me tingles with this delight. Such a challenge it will be for me to not just snatch you up..." His gaze lingered on Sarah, who returned his gaze coldly. "... And eat you. If I do that before I let you play however, I may not last as much as I'd like. I wouldn't make even a half an hour of hearing you scream." He shivered and let out what seemed a moan and sigh mixed within the same breath. He closed his eyes for a moment. Jake walked behind his sister and set a hand on her shoulder, then pulling her to him. Sarah showed no acknowledgment. She only stared at Chester C., taking in every movement he made, breathing harder from the face he had made and speech that had followed. Chester C. opened his eyes and laughed. Laughed at the new position the two had taken. It was hilarious to see them come together, right when he was unveiling the spectacular beginning to his day. He swiftly took the hat in his hand and swirling it behind his back, letting his other hand grab a hold of it. His light, sandy brown hair fell from where it was when in the hat. It now went completely down to his shoulders. Parts gleamed with sweat from the light coming from the chandelier. "Now, come one, come all! Boys, girls, men, and women! I invite you all to a show!" He grinned wider. "Ho! None wish to come, but two lowly children? Well then..." He pulled the hat from behind his back. Jake and Sarah both gasped. What was to be the inside of the hat, was a dark vortex. Purple, blue, and black lights swirled inside of it. A loud sucking noise emitted from it. "Now... Sarah, Jake... Come inside, to my Wonderland, the beautiful Erinyes, the last place you shall ever see!" 


End file.
